Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(76)

Between his marauding mouth and the sensual slide of the material, chills broke out from her neck to her knees.


Colt kept up the suckling kisses and erotic silken glide of the scarf, changing the pace at odd intervals by tugging gently on the silk, sending a spark of pain that immediately morphed into pleasure.


She gasped.


He chuckled and kept doing it. Again and again.


When India couldn’t take any more, and felt the sticky warmth pooling between her thighs, she whispered, “Please.”


“Please what?”


“Please make me come again.”


His cheek rubbed against hers; his breath tickled her ear.


“You’ll come my way. It won’t be on my cock. Not yet.”


“I don’t care. I just need—”


Colt took her mouth in a tongue-tangling kiss before that clever mouth moved down the center of her body. He scooted back on his belly until his face was on level with her mound.


She looked at his dark hair as he flicked his tongue across the piercing. Her arms jerked in her bonds and her legs twitched with every fleeting lick. She noticed he’d twisted the ends of the scarf around the palm of his left hand. Her heart thumped when he turned the vibrator on.


“Colt—”


“Loosen up, sugar.” He swirled the end of the vibrator around her opening in the same manner as his tongue circled her clit. Three things happened simultaneously: he slid the vibrator into her *, he sucked on her clit and he tugged on the scarf.


India screamed.


Never had all her erogenous zones been targeted simultaneously. Her body was electrified, merely a conduit for sexual pleasure.


And Colt overwhelmed her with it. He f*cked her with the vibrator, pressing the phallus against her pubic bone inside as he suckled her clit, then he’d slowly drag it out again.


The intense stimulation had her grinding her sex into Colt’s face. He emitted a growling noise and continued driving her to the brink with his lips and tongue. She thrashed as much as the bonds would allow, the fabric burned her wrists and ankles, the sheets abraded her spine, but she didn’t care.


Especially not when her orgasm broke free, reverberating in one long wave, as if every neuron in her brain sent a message to her body to tingle, explode and throb in unison.


She was so bowled over she couldn’t scream. She couldn’t breathe. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She finally knew what the French meant when they called an orgasm a little death—she’d briefly experienced heaven.


When the rhythmic pulses in her clit slowed, the vibrator disappeared.


“Look at me.”


India opened her eyes to see Colt’s cheeks were flushed, his lips glistened with her juices and his eyes were heavy-lidded with desire.


He ripped the scarves from her ankles, hiked her hips up, pressing the backs of her thighs to his chest. Aligning his cock to her *, he plunged in, his fingers tightened on her ass as he f*cked her with abandon. “Jesus, you’re wet.”


“You have that effect on me.”


“Yeah? Your effect on me is I’m ready to blow.”


And he did, almost immediately. He was mesmerizing lost in his climax. She watched him, humbled by all this man freely gave to her—in bed and out.


He untied her arms and legs and carefully unthreaded the scarf from the nipple rings. Rather than bringing her into his arms, Colt laid his head on her chest.